


The Demon and the Cobbler

by The_Plaid_Slytherin



Category: 12 Dancing Princesses (Fairy Tale)
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon, Yuletide 2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 15:35:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5422454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/pseuds/The_Plaid_Slytherin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We know the fates of the twelve dancing princesses, but what about the princes they danced with? And what about the people replacing all those shoes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Demon and the Cobbler

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Liviania](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liviania/gifts).



> I was very much inspired by your question about the cobblers! Different versions of this story have different explanations for the princes, and this is sort of a blend.

Once upon a time, there were twelve princes. You may have heard of these twelve princes in association with twelve princesses, with whom they spent many nights dancing. Some of them liked it; the rest of them found it quite tiresome. No one questioned how this had come to pass; it simply was. Every night, the princesses would appear from some unknown place and they would pass a merry evening feasting and dancing until their shoes were worn out. Would it ever stop? There was no reason to question it. Anyone who tried to stop the princesses was soon thwarted and no one tried to stop the princes.

The only brother who questioned why this was so was called Gerulf. Gerulf loved to dance as much as any of them, perhaps more, but he was also curious and not content to simply accept what he was told.

Why, he wondered, had he and his brothers lived in this castle for as long as they could remember? He asked his older brothers what they remembered, but they claimed no knowledge. His younger brothers asked only if he liked dancing with the princesses. Gerulf liked it well enough, but the question of why bothered him. 

It wasn't as if it was a bad life. They had everything they could ever want in the castle—books and other amusements, company in each other and the princesses. There were plenty of servants, but there was no one else. They had all just simply been there, for as long as even the eldest brother would admit to remembering. 

So, Gerulf tried to put it from his mind and go on dancing, but it did not come as easily to him as it did his brothers. He enjoyed the long nights dancing and feasting with the princesses, and he spent his days, not at games or running through the castle, but in the library, looking for some hint of why the world was the way it was. It did not tell him much. He saw pictures of the outside world, the sun, the moon, flowers, trees, but there was no hint of how to get there.

He next tried asking the princess with whom he danced most nights. Her name was Hilde. She made a nice dancing companion, but was not forthcoming when he asked what her home was like.

"Above the staircase," she said vaguely, "past the silver forest."

Gerulf and his brothers were not allowed to proceed past the lake where they met the princesses each evening, though he could see the gold forest from that point, and the faintest glimpse of the silver one beyond it. "Tell me more," he said, "does the sun shine up there? Do you see the moon and the stars? Are there flowers and trees?"

"Oh, none so nice as the silver and gold trees you have down here!" She laughed. "Why do you ask such silly questions?"

Gerulf didn't know. He didn't think the questions were silly, but perhaps they were, if he was the only one who was asking them. The sun, the moon, the stars, the green trees—these all seemed as dull and ordinary to Hilde as the silver-gold trees and the eternal night did to Gerulf. 

One night, Hilde came to him laughing. "We have outwitted another suitor our father sent to us. You should have heard how loudly he snored!"

Gerulf laughed. He loved hearing of how the princesses had thwarted the efforts of this or that suitor. "That was good," he said. He paused. "I wonder when we will be able to follow you out of this place."

She appeared stricken. "Why would you want to leave this place?" 

"To see more of the world."

"I cannot imagine a more glorious place than this, where we get to dance every night." 

It was true that dancing was fun and he enjoyed Hilde's company. His brothers talked of nothing the next day but the possibility that they might one day marry the princesses.

"Alden will marry the eldest," their youngest brother said. "And he will be their father's heir. That is why they keep defeating their suitors. They are waiting for us."

Alden smiled at this, but Gerulf could not help but notice that it seemed to lack his brother's usual warmth.

That night, instead of Hilde, Gerulf found himself dancing with the youngest princess, Xiomera. 

"I think something strange has happened," she said, looking over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't overheard. "I am afraid we were followed." 

"Nonsense!" Gerulf said, though he did not know that this must be so. "Was the suitor snoring loudly when you left?" He hoped she would talk more about the castle from whence they came, and what it was like to live in a world where the sun dictated the times of sleeping and waking, where people did not dance all night and sleep all day.

"He was snoring," Xiomera said, her dark eyes serious. "But does that mean he was asleep?" 

From that moment, Gerulf could not will away the feeling of dread and trepidation. There was no reason to believe that tonight would not be like any other night, and it was.

It was the night after that the princesses did not come.

"Where could they be?" 

"What has happened?"

"Why would they do this?" Gerulf asked, looking at Alden. That was the other suspicion he could not will away, that Alden knew more about their condition than he let on. 

"It was not likely their doing," his eldest brother said. "Someone has learnt their secret."

Gasps passed through the anxious brothers. Gerulf remembered Xiomera's concerns, about the wine goblet, the breaking of the branches, the weight in the boat, someone treading on her gown. "What is to become of them now?"

"They are free to return to their normal lives, but we, my brothers, we are the ones now cursed." Now, Gerulf could see his brother's handsome face beginning to change. At first he thought it was a trick of the light, but he seemed to be taking on a sinister cast. Were his features truly growing more hairy? Were those horns? 

For, you see, the princesses had been bewitched to come to this underground castle and dance with the twelve princes who were, in reality, demons. This knowledge was known only to the demon who took the form of the eldest brother, and once the spell was broken, the brothers found themselves scattered by the four winds, each banished to a different part of the world. 

Gerulf was not carried far. He ended up in a wood, where he soon found an empty cottage (never mind that it was empty because the occupants fled at the very sight of him). He went into it, barred the door, and did not come out again. 

**

In the same part of the world where the twelve princesses were now free to dance whenever and with whomever they pleased without their shoes wearing out, there lived a cobbler. There were many cobblers in that part of the world, and this one had had only a short apprenticeship. You might think this had been because he had proven his worth to his master quickly and allowed to go right into business for himself. You would be wrong. Eustace's apprenticeship had been short for one reason only: Eustace was useless. He did not agree with this assessment, of course; few useless people do. 

Eustace's master, like all the cobblers in this particular kingdom, was more interested in making dancing shoes for the princesses who wore theirs out nightly in a manner unknown. Every cobbler wanted to catch the princesses' favor, making each new slipper gaudier (and flimsier) than the last. With things this way, it was worth more to the cobblers' purses to let the princesses continually wear out their shoes than it was to make sturdier ones. 

Eustace wanted to make practical, sturdy shoes. 

And, so, Eustace had been summarily dismissed by his master and set out in the world to make his fortune in some profession other than dancing-slipper making.

Eustace left the city in which the princesses' palace was located and decided to keep walking until he met someone who was interested in sturdy shoes.

Now, Eustace may have been useless, but he had nothing if not a good heart. He could not help stopping and giving aid to any party who appeared to need it. There was the old woman he'd given his cloak to, and the little boy he'd given his (sturdy, practical) shoes to. And, so, it was rather an unpleasant thing when it began to rain and Eustace was still slogging down the path that ran through the wood. When he spotted the cottage, he decided that no one could mind if he took a bit of shelter from the rain. Eustace tended to think the best of people.

Of course, there was one person who objected, and that was Gerulf.

He was not having a good time since he had been cursed from the underground castle that had been his home for as long as he could remember. You would probably not have a good time either, if you had just learned you were a demon. 

It would take some getting used to—the clawed feet that looked more like wolf's paws, the tail, the horns, the ears. 

It was the sort of thing you had to work through yourself, if you were suddenly stricken with such a condition. He didn't appreciate Eustace clattering into his cottage, dropping his kit, and starting to make a cup of tea.

Although it _had_ been a long time since he'd had a cup of tea. 

It was when Gerulf was thinking this that Eustace first noticed his presence. Or, someone's presence.

"Who's there?" He turned. The light from his fire was only enough to make out a dark shape in the corner. 

Gerulf said nothing. It had been a long time since he'd spoken to anyone. Here in this dim, dingy cottage, he seemed very far from the bright, shining hall where he had once danced with the princesses. To think he had wanted to know what lay beyond the lake and the gold and silver forests. Now that he was here, he didn't appreciate the fresh air, or the sun, the moon, and the stars. 

"Would you like a cup of tea?" Eustace asked. 

The figure in the corner was silent. Eustace got a second cup out of his knapsack anyway. Most people he knew liked tea, so it was a safe assumption. Then, while the water was boiling, he took out his mouth organ and began to play. Gerulf's ears twitched. He had not heard music in a long time, not since that last night he had danced with the princesses. He tried to turn away from the sound, but it seemed the ears he now had were extraordinarily good at hearing. 

"Stop," he said, hating the way his voice was now a low growl. He did not like the memories assailing him. Even though the simple mouth organ was nothing like the enchanted bands that had played for all those nights of dancing, it still reminded him of his lost brothers and their time together.

Eustace stopped. He knew he wasn't the best musician; he'd often been chastised for playing when everyone else was trying to concentrate on making dancing slippers. Some people just didn't appreciate music. He poured two cups of tea and then started taking food out of his pack. He was down to the end of a hunk of cheese, the heel of a loaf of bread, and a mushy apple. 

"Are you hungry?" he asked Gerulf.

Gerulf was. He'd been subsisting on what he could find or catch, which wasn't much. Even Eustace's meager meal looked good. His stomach rumbled. Eustace took out his knife and cut everything in half.

He set a plate for Gerulf on the other side of the fire and set to eating. Gerulf didn't move. As much as he wanted to eat, he didn't want Eustace to see him. He hadn't looked at himself in a mirror since he'd turned into this… well, he supposed it was what he was supposed to be, but the cottage's previous occupants had run screaming at the sight of him, so it didn't inspire much confidence. 

"Come on," Eustace said encouragingly, with only a touch of willful ignorance. "It's not much, but it's better than nothing."

Gerulf hesitated. He supposed if this man ran screaming, Gerulf might at least get the whole apple to himself. 

"Tea's getting cold."

He stepped up to the fire. Eustace went on eating. He did not react to Gerulf's appearance. Gerulf sat cross-legged and began eating. He glanced up. Eustace was concentrating on his own meal. He wasn't even staring. Gerulf reached up. Yes, the horns were still there. His fangs sank into the soft, bruised skin of the apple. 

"It's cold in here, don't you think?" Eustace got up. "I'm going to get more wood."

Perhaps he was fleeing while still saving face. But, a few minutes later, Eustace returned with an armful of wood. 

"Why did you come into my home?" Gerulf asked when he'd built up the fire. "Where did you come from?"

"Oh, is it your home?" Eustace's grin was mischievous. Clearly, Gerulf had not been convincing in claiming the cottage as his own. "I came from the capital. I was going to be a cobbler, but it seems like everyone there is interested in dancing shoes." 

Gerulf looked down at his unshod feet. At least he did not need dancing shoes now. His claws would rip right through any fine shoe like he had had before.

"You see," Eustace went on, "I just like sturdy shoes more. Seems more practical." He gave Gerulf an appraising look. "You strike me as a practical fellow. Shall I make you some shoes, if I'm taking your house for the night?"

Gerulf stared. Eustace stared right back, a smile on his face. 

"I'll take that for a yes," he said easily. He opened his bag and began pulling out supplies. He kept one eye on Gerulf's feet. "All right, I think I've got your size." He immediately went to work. Gerulf pulled his cloak over himself and went to sleep.

The next morning dawned bright and cold. Gerulf opened one eye. He fully expected Eustace to be gone. Instead, he was slumped over, looking extremely uncomfortable. There were a pair of shoes sitting next to him. They were practical, sturdy shoes, of a highly unusual shape, the sort to fit Gerulf's clawed feet. He stared at them for some time before putting them on. They fit perfectly. Suddenly his clothes, which was what he'd been wearing that awful night, now torn from the changes wrought to his body, felt inadequate. 

He tapped his foot against the ground, hopped from one foot to the other. 

No. He wouldn't dance. Not yet.

He tossed his cloak over Eustace and went outside. He blinked in the sunshine. It was so... bright. Gerulf tilted his head back. A gentle breeze rustled the bare branches of the trees. He breathed deeply. Though cold, the air smelled fresh and clean. He wished suddenly that he had appreciated his first glimpse of the outside world. Perhaps he could start now.

Eustace woke to the smell of roasting… something. He sat up. Gerulf was crouched over the fire. He was wearing the shoes. Eustace smiled. "At least someone appreciates practical shoes."

Gerulf said nothing for a long moment. He turned the meat on the spit. Finally, he said, "They're good. I no longer need dancing shoes."

"And why's that?" This was another part of Eustace's uselessness—he did not know when to shut up.

At first, he thought Gerulf wouldn't answer him. Then, at last, he said, "You come from the capital. You know about the twelve princesses?"

"Know about them? I wanted to make shoes like that for them. Figured they wouldn't wear out so quickly if they were sturdier."

Gerulf looked down at his shoes again. Then, somehow, he was telling the story. All about his brothers, the life in the underground palace that was the only thing he remembered. Dancing with the princesses. He did not look at Eustace until his story was finished. He waited for some condemnation, some dismissal of him as a foul demon who had attempted to steal away a princess.

"Well," said Eustace. "That explains a lot. Everyone wondered what they were getting up to all those nights."

Gerulf blinked. He had never considered how that must have seemed from the other side.

"How are the shoes?" Eustace wanted to know. "Do they fit all right? I've never fit anyone with feet quite like yours before."

"They're fine." 

Eustace smiled, satisfied. "Good."

They ate in silence. After they'd finished, Eustace said, "So, what are you going to do now?"

"What am _I_ going to do now?" It was a silly question. It was plainly obvious that he was just going to stay here, in the dark, where no one could see him. "The question ought to be what are _you_ going to do. You're the one who's come tramping into somebody else's house." 

"Doesn't seem like it's really your house either."

Gerulf rubbed his snout. It was true. "And what do you propose I do then?"

Eustace shrugged. "You could come with me. Didn't you say you wanted to see a bit of the world? If we left this forest, we could see the stars." 

He had forgotten about wanting to see the stars. 

"At least now you have proper walking shoes," Eustace added. 

Gerulf looked down at his feet. These shoes seemed like they might carry him quite a long way.

And he could imagine, perhaps, some night, that Eustace might take out his mouth organ, and perhaps, he would dance.


End file.
